Only In Her Dreams
by Midnight Ryder
Summary: Only in her dreams could Wendy be free to fly with Peter to Neverland. Only in her dreams did he come to her, or so she thought. PeterWendy. Oneshot.


**Title: Only In Her Dreams**

**Summary: Only in her dreams could Wendy be free to fly with Peter to Neverland. Only in her dreams did he come to her, or so she thought. Peter/Wendy. Oneshot.**

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In her dreams…

Only in her nocturnal imagination did she see his young, vivacious face. Only when the everlasting sun faded into sweet darkness, only when the noble and serene moon appeared in the dark heavens, and the millions of twinkling stars flickered into view—one by one—did she ever hear his jovial melodious voice.

In theses dreams, he would stealthily fly through her open window; the window in which she always kept unlatched.

Always.

Making his way over to her bed, he would float over her resting body, to see if she was fast asleep. But never was she asleep when he came for her; never. Her iridescent eyes would snap open, as if on cue, her smile so vast, she sometimes wondered if it could even fit within the limitations of her delicate face.

His blue green eyes would sparkle with the childlike luster in which defined his being, his smile smug with mischief and adventure, his extended hand beckoning for her to join him tonight—as she had the last.

And like the evening before, with a small giggle, she would eagerly throw the warm covers off of her small form, slipping her pale hand within his. Without any spoken words, the boy who had stolen her heart would procure a small dainty pouch.

His eyes would hold the brief question that he always made sure to ask; each and every single time.

Are you ready?

With a childlike smile, a smile in which she had long ago forgotten, she would delve into the tiny pouch, pinching the sheer magic that resided inside between her pointer and thumb; sprinkling the shimmering fairy dust over her brown curls.

She would think of the new adventures that awaited her, of Neverland.

Her body would begin to rise, grow immune to the laws of gravity which were written in blood upon stone; and hand in hand, she and Peter Pan would fly out of her bedroom window and into the starry night sky before them.

Over London they would soar, above rooftops and church steeples, and green grassy plains.

They would ascend higher and higher, their laughter ringing beyond the downy white clouds. The gentle wind would whip her long, flowing tendrils about her rosy face. She would feel naught but pure elation, as if nothing would ever surpass this feeling; this long lost feeling of pure happiness.

But she would once again be proved wrong by the boy who held her hand so reassuringly, almost lovingly, as he led her into another world, a realm of dreams and fantasy—enchantment.

Over lush treetops they flew, over the tranquil waterfall that tumbled into the calm moonlit water in which mermaids and fairies slept soundly. A majestic volcano they would pass, a small ship down below visible to their eyes full of bliss.

Pure bliss.

Gruesome worries and troubles had evaded her body since the very moment she had looked into his blue green depths hovering above her, back within the heart of London.

Down to a field filled with flowers every color imaginable they would drift, and slowly lie back into the soft bed in which filled their senses with intoxicating fragrances. Gazing up into the twinkling stars, she would rest her head upon his boyish shoulder.

Finally words escaped him, "Wendy…"

A small smile would tug at her rosy lips, "It's beautiful, Peter, breathtaking."

He would slightly turn on his side and softly run his thumb over her youthful cheek, pressing a soft kiss upon the top of her hair, he would murmur, "But my Wendy outshines its beauty without question."

A soft giggle would escape her as she lay there in his arms.

Sometimes, they would just lie there in the flowers, content to reside in their childlike innocence and naïveté, content to hold each other until the sun rose, in which he would always have to take her back.

Back to reality…

Back to responsibility…

Other times, there would be soft kisses, feather light touches…

And on magical nights, in which all of the beguile of Neverland took over reasoning, they would follow their hearts—and their passion to heights greater and higher than the clouds could ever strive to reach.

To peaks of thrill and exhilaration they would climb, their love exposed through their young bodies.

Only in her dreams…

But each night must come to an end, and with it, came Wendy's days filled of gradual fatigue and sadness. Her eyes that flickered with such merriness at night, transformed into subdued melancholy with each time the sun rose, and her Peter left her withwhispered promises of return.

Only in her dreams did she remain young and lighthearted, with the everlasting companionship of her friend…of her lover.

Wendy opened her bleary eyes to the light of day. Neverland was slowly trickling through her grasp like tiny grains of sand. Peter's cheery face, his sun streaked brown hair, his gleaming eyes a combination of emeralds and sapphires, faded into the recesses of her mind, of her nighttime fantasies.

Her maid, Ms. Doddy had brought in a silver breakfast tray, and with a disapproving 'tsk', walked over to the open window in which snow flakes drifted into Wendy's bedroom. She hastily closed and locked the door to Wendy's happiness, and said, "Miss Wendy, you'll catch your death what with sleeping with this blasted window open through rain, sleet, and snow."

Wendy remained silent as she looked down at her long and bony fingers. Her translucent skin revealed the faint blue of the veins lying underneath. She let out a weak cough as she lay back against the several soft pillows behind her back.

How she had aged so, now a brittle old woman, only coming alive when Peter came to her…

Only in her dreams…

But Wendy had been wrong.

For, Peter Pan had come to visit her each and every night, sometimes to simply watch her sleep behind the cloak of shadows, and other times to sit by her bed, and hold her smooth hands within his own.

Waiting.

He was there on the rainy morning in which his Wendy was buried, by her elderly husband, her beautiful children and grandchildren, her younger brothers and their children… All of which wept tears for the woman who had always been a girl inside, the girl who had long ago given her heart away to Peter Pan.

And while they said their final goodbyes, Peter extended his soft hand to his Wendy Darling, who in turn slipped her youthful hand into his own. Gazing into her carefree light blue eyes, he asked her the question in which he never forgot to ask.

Are you ready?

She simply smiled.

This time, she didn't need the magic of fairy dust to lift her up into the clouds above her, hand in hand with her Peter Pan, her childhood and eternal sweetheart, to the magical enigma which was Neverland.

And when they would watch the sun rise into the morning sky, pinks, reds, and oranges stretching over the horizon, Wendy would smile. For, this was where she belonged.

With Peter.

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**First Peter Pan fic, so _please_! Read and Review!**

♥ **Much love,**

**Midnight Ryder**


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